Black Balloon
by nightshade12
Summary: prequel to "Bed of Nails" [C/G] please review


Black Balloon  
  
  
  
Author: nightshade  
  
Disclaimer: Thank goodness they don't belong to me. I'd screw up the whole thing with my limited knowledge of science and the sort.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Author's Note: C/G - This is the prequel to "Bed of Nails". I strongly suggest you read that one first to know where I'm coming from. This was inspired by the Goo Goo Doll's song, "Black Balloon" (GREAT song, go download it or whatever) A black balloon, to me, is the ultimate paradox. A balloon represents new life, joy, but under the shadow of black, it brings the element of death and unhappiness. Here we go....  
  
  
  
~  
Baby's black balloon makes her fly  
I almost fell into that whole in your life  
~  
  
  
  
"Daddy, where are we going?" She asked sleepily as he helped her buckle her seatbelt. It was unlike her father to suddenly lift her from her bed and take her on a car ride this late at night, or early in the morning, whichever.  
  
"We're going to see Mom." He replied with a smile, trying to cheer his daughter up.  
  
"But she's working." She half-pointed out, half-protested.  
  
"I know. I just really need to talk to her."  
  
"Why can't you use the phone?" Grissom laughed at this. Little did he know, years later, his own wife would be inquiring about the same thing.  
  
"Well, some things you just have to say in person." He explained as he got into the driver's seat and pulled out of the driveway.  
  
"Will we see Uncle Warrick?" She asked, brightly. He inwardly scowled at this, but answered with an affirmative, forcing a smile at his daughter's delight.  
  
He drove in silence, trying to sort out the mixed up feelings he had overloading his mind. He really wasn't sure why he was going to see Catherine or what he was going to say when he got there. He didn't know if he wanted to reconcile or fight over it yet again. Yet while he was ruminating over all these things, he listened to the little girl sitting in the backseat, singing the alphabet backwards. Despite the fact that she was only turning five in a few months, she had the mind of a ten year old. She already knew about negative numbers, who Salvador Dali was, and had the keen instinct of telling something was wrong (that, of course, came from Catherine).  
  
He pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and handed it to his daughter. "Call Mom." He instructed her. "615 89 - "  
  
"Daddy, I know." She reminded him. "You had me memorize it."  
  
This was Grissom's first child. Because of this, he had grown fears which only father's could have. He worried too much over the safety of the young life his wife had brought into the dangerous world he had to bring justice to night after night, shift after shift, hour after hour. Through all these fears, he made sure his daughter knew what to do if she were, God forbid, in trouble. He made her memorize both her parent's cell phone numbers and even Eddie's if anything were to go wrong when she was with the baby-sitter. Nothing ever did happen, but nevertheless Grissom had her recite them every time he and Catherine were to walk out the door for work. Though Catherine reminded him numerous times that Lindsey would be at home too, Grissom knew she wouldn't always be there. Sometimes she'd be spending her time at Eddie's or a friend's. Not that he thought that the baby sitter was incompetent, but his imagination would run wild, creating bizarre obstacles that his daughter may have to face on her own.  
  
He smiled at her in the rear view mirror.  
  
  
  
~  
And you're not thinking 'bout tomorrow  
'Cause you were the same as me but on your knees  
~  
  
  
  
"Mommy?"  
  
"Baby, what's wrong?"  
  
"Daddy and I are coming."  
  
"What do you mean? Coming where? Is everything okay at home?"  
  
"Yeah. Daddy wants to talk to you."  
  
Catherine sighed audibly into the phone. "Okay. Are you already on your way?"  
  
"We're in the car."  
  
"Tell Mom we're turning in right this moment." Grissom said.  
  
"I heard." Catherine replied to her daughter.  
  
"She knows, Daddy."  
  
Within a few minutes, Grissom took his daughter's hand and walked into CSI. Greg Sanders met them in the hallway, and he greeted them with a grin, "Hey, Griss. What are you doing here? You have the night off." He squatted down to pinch the little girl's cheek, making her giggle.  
  
"Greg, can you watch her for a few minutes?"  
  
"Sure thing, Boss." Then, as Grissom walked away, "Did you get into a tiff with Cath?" Grissom waved him off without an answer. Greg shrugged and turned to the little girl tugging on his lab coat. "Come on, Kid. Let's go play some computer games. I could use a break from all the work your mom makes me do."  
  
"Gil, can't this wait till I get home? I have work to do." Catherine said as Grissom led her into the break room. She was impatient, but waited for his explanation. "We've talked about this to its death."  
  
"I just have to know - "  
  
"And I've told you: No. No, I didn't." Catherine sighed. "And that's the truth. If you don't believe me, then I don't know. Warrick is a friend, just like you were a friend to me when I was still married to Eddie. That's all there is to it. Eddie accused me of sleeping with you, but that didn't mean it was true. Okay?"  
  
"But how do I know?" He pressed on, "I mean, you divorced Eddie and married me. How do I know that won't happen to me? How do I know that you won't divorce me and marry Warrick?"  
  
  
  
~  
A thousand other boys could never reach you  
How could I have been the one?  
~  
  
  
  
"You'll just have to trust me, Gil. And Eddie and I were different. We didn't have what you and I have now: mutual feelings. A relationship is based on trust. I mean, if you're so insecure about our marriage to drag our daughter out of bed to talk to me about this, then, I don't know what to tell you."  
  
At that moment, Warrick knocked on the glass door, entering the room. He muttered an apology and said to Catherine, "Doc called us down. He wants to show us something he found during the autopsy."  
  
Catherine nodded, "Thanks, Warrick. I'll be there in a minute." She turned her attention back to her husband, "We'll talk about this when I get home, okay?" Grissom didn't answer. She moved toward him and kissed his lips warmly. "Okay?" He slowly nodded. "All right," she said, "I have to go."  
  
Grissom, with his mind filled with insecurities and doubts, returned to the lab to find his daughter sitting on Greg's knee playing games on the computer, arguing about whose brain was the size of a pistachio.  
  
"I bet it's even smaller than that!" The little girl laughed.  
  
Greg made a face at her, "It's still bigger than yours." He teased back.  
  
"No way!"  
  
Grissom knocked on the door, catching their attention. "Hey, we're going home, Kiddo. Thanks, Greg." The child jumped up from Greg's lap and took her father's outstretched hand. "Say good bye to Greg."  
  
She grinned and waved, "Bye, Bird-Brain."  
  
"Hey, that's not a nice thing to say." Grissom warned, "Apologize right now."  
  
She sighed, rolling her eyes, "Sorry, birds!"  
  
Both father and daughter shared a laugh as Greg's eyes went wide in shock, but she ran back and kissed him sloppily on the lips. "Bye, Greg!"  
  
  
  
~  
I watched the world spin beneath you  
And scatter like ice from a spoon that was your womb  
~  
  
  
  
Grissom took his little girl's hand and led her to the car.  
  
"Daddy?" He looked down into her eyes, blue like her mother's.  
  
"Yeah? What is it?"  
  
"Daddy? Are you mad at Mom?"  
  
"There's nothing for you to be worried about." Grissom answered as he drove off from CSI.  
  
As much as he struggled to keep his eyes and mind on the road, he was overwrought with his thoughts. His own mind wouldn't leave him alone. How did he know that Catherine wasn't thinking about someone else? He saw his wife, and he knew she was gorgeous. Why would she want to have anything to do with him? And for the first time in their marriage, he believed she could and would leave him. The thought had never occurred to him yet. He could feel her slipping away from him. He was going to lose her. It had taken so long to --- and now he was going to lose her. Suddenly, things faded to black, pulling away from him.  
  
He opened his eyes to find himself lying on the road, his cheek against the concrete, busted glass splayed across the pavement. Even in the blurriness, he could still make out the tall, neon yellow arches of a McDonald's. For one reason or another, it comforted him to know that someone was placing their order, "Yeah, hi. I'd like the number six on the dollar menu. Medium coke, extra order of fries, and a decaf coffee. Could you put in some extra packets of sugar? Thanks a lot. Keep the change." Something warm crept down the side of his face. His eyes refocused. People were crowding closer, their concerned, strange faces staring at him. They were yelling. A person was on her cell phone saying something about the intersection on Roosevelt and Walker. Through all the noise and chaos, he could hear a single voice. Someone was crying. The sobs pounded against his head, provoking a migraine. Damn it! Someone should be tending their kid! What kind of irresponsible parent would leave their kid crying and cry -  
  
Realization burned through him, scolding him to save the epitome of his reason to live.  
  
He coerced his protesting body to sit up, and on limp, numb legs, he lunged toward his daughter's voice.  
  
"Daddy!" She sobbed over and over. "Daddy!"  
  
The distance between them was only about six feet, yet to him it felt like it would take the rest of his diminishing strength to reach her.  
  
"Daddy!" The pain in her voice could have killed him alone. Tears flooded him.  
  
  
  
~  
Coming down, the world turned over  
And angels fall without you there  
And I go on as you get colder  
Or are you someone's prayer?  
~  
  
  
  
He embraced her broken body in his arms, holding her head close to his chest. He couldn't remember her ever being so tiny. A mixture of blood and tears fell from his face, staining her shirt dark red.  
  
It was then it occurred to him that with all that he imagined could inflict his daughter with harm, he never imagined it would be him.  
  
"Daddy, it hurts."  
  
"I know. I know it does. Just hang on. Someone called the ambulance. It's coming. Just hang on." Grissom looked at the pool of blood forming beneath him. God, how he wished it were his blood. Let it be my blood, he prayed. "Baby, baby, say something to me. Say something. Stay awake. Say something."  
  
His daughter met his eyes. "Hi."  
  
He tried to laugh, but his laugh came out more like a whimper. He wanted to. He wanted to laugh so badly to comfort the life he held in his arms, the life that was slipping away from him.  
  
"Everything's going to be okay. I promise, Baby. I swear, you're going to be okay. Everything's going to be all right, okay? You hear me? Everything's going to be okay." His words rattled from his throat, though half the time he had no idea what he was mumbling about. "It's going to be okay, Baby. Just hang on for a little bit longer. Everything's going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay."  
  
"Dad!" She said. She had never called him that before. "Dad, I believe you."  
  
She was suddenly so much older, so much wiser, and so much further away from him than she had ever been. How could she be four years old? he wondered.  
  
"Daddy?"  
  
"Yeah? What?"  
  
"Don't be mad at Mommy."  
  
Grissom stared at his daughter. He shook his head. "I'm not mad at Mommy."  
  
"Good." She rewarded him with a smile; a tired smile, but nonetheless a smile. "Mom loves you."  
  
It was such a typical Catherine thing to do that Grissom burst into another set of tears. Only Catherine would try to repair brokenness with all the draining strength within her, and here her own daughter was doing the same thing.  
  
  
  
~  
I know the lies that all has told you  
And the love you never knew  
~  
  
  
  
She is so much more her daughter than she is mine, He thought.  
  
He met Catherine outside in the hallway of the hospital after they checked his head wound: a mere bump beside the temple. Doctors strayed in and out, in and out. With all the ins and outs, not a doctor informed them about anything. They passed by and said nothing. Then, a nurse came out with a remorseful look. In the slat of the half open door, Grissom caught the motion of the heart monitor, or the lack thereof. The steady beeping ended with a long, high pitched drawl that echoed in his head even after it had been turned off.  
  
The doctor apologized, said something about how she had lost too much blood, internal damage, something about how she was hemorrhaging, and then apologized again. Then, the doctor walked away, a trail of young nurses falling in line after him.  
  
One nurse went up the front counter and told the person at the desk, "There's an opening in Room 239."  
  
Grissom blew up and told them that the opening they were talking about was the room his four year old daughter had just vacated. He then demanded to know if they would say that if their four year old child had just died, if they would call it an "opening". Catherine pulled on his arm weakly to leave. All they did was apologize.  
  
Who needs their apologies? Nobody.  
  
Catherine wanted to leave, but he didn't want to. His baby girl was gone. He couldn't move. He stood outside her room and let the tears flow freely, holding his wife who was sobbing into his chest.  
  
Then, Nick, Sara, Warrick, Brass, and Greg arrived in one Tahoe. They strode down the hallways, searching for the room that read 239, only to find father and mother clinging to each other, nearly crouching on the floor. Catherine's back was turned away, her face buried into his shirt, shoulders shaking. Only Grissom saw them. He merely shook his head. No words were exchanged. Nobody apologized. It wasn't necessary. It would've only made Grissom more upset.  
  
Warrick drove them home. Still, nobody said anything. Both Catherine and Grissom thanked him with a look, and Grissom no longer accused him of anything. All Warrick saw when he began driving away were their silhouettes through the window, where Catherine's strength failed her, making her collapse into sobs against her husband.  
  
  
  
~  
Was there things they never showed you?  
That swallowed the light from the sun inside your room, yeah  
~  
  
  
  
"Gil? Where are you going?" She asked a few hours later. It was dawn. She watched him silently for a moment as he shrugged on his jacket. "Where are you going?" She said again, her subdued voice proving how long she had cried.  
  
"I'm going out for a walk." He answered, then, "Go to bed. You need some rest."  
  
"Gil, I need YOU." She protested, "Don't go. Not now. Please."  
  
"I'll be back soon, Cath." He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and left, slamming the door behind him.  
  
Neither knew it, but while the other wasn't there, they had their own private tears that they didn't show the other. And while they were separate, their thoughts and memories were the same. The first being, of course, how she had been conceived.  
  
It had been raining unusually hard considering Nevada. Somehow they had finished the case early and began driving back along the empty highway when they had gotten lost in their own city. Catherine pulled the Tahoe over on the side and began flipping through the Las Vegas road map. Grissom sat in the passenger seat, watching her rave on about how maps could not keep up with the roads being built everyday. Her dripping golden curls fell in front of her, hiding her face as she examined the numerous symbols and lines. She ended up cursing and seething with rage, announcing that she was going to write a letter to the map company, before she tossed the packet of clustered papers to the backseat. She reached to release the brake when Grissom caught her hand, a mischievous grin across his face.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I love how you overreact about mundane things like this."  
  
"First of all, I'm not overreacting. Second of all, it's not mundane. Third of all --- " Before she could finish her list, Grissom trapped her mouth into his, cutting off her sentence. She smiled as they parted. "It's a good thing you did that; I didn't have a third complaint."  
  
He barely got a chance to reply when she suddenly climbed over the brake to straddle his lap. His wife smiled at him afterward.  
  
"That was fun." She said. "I never did that in a car before."  
  
  
  
~  
Coming down, the world turned over  
And angels fall without you there  
And I go on as you get colder  
Or are you someone's prayer?  
~  
  
  
  
They also remembered the first night they came back from the hospital after she was born. In the middle of the night, Grissom had woken up and had gone to check on his baby girl who was sleeping soundly. He didn't know how long he had sat there staring at the life his wife had brought forth. The baby stirred in her sleep and woke up smiling, gurgled something and reached up her tiny arms at her father. Lindsey had walked in at that moment, and for a long time, they sat on the floor next to the window, holding the baby in their arms. That was how Catherine found them the next morning.  
  
  
  
~  
And there's no time left for losing  
When you stand they fall, yeah...  
~  
  
  
  
Grissom returned nearly twenty four hours later into the late afternoon. The house was so still; a burning emptiness twisted its way into his heart.  
  
"Cath - Catherine?" He called as he went up the stairs to their bedroom. No one responded, but he saw her. "Catherine?"  
  
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her back turned to him. "I didn't think you'd come back." She said.  
  
He sat beside her, but far away; he didn't touch her. He never held her when she needed to be held most. "Why wouldn't I come back?" He asked her softly.  
  
"Who knows....All those years, I never understood you." She sighed, then, "I still don't, and I guess I never will."  
  
"Did you sleep?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "That's just so typical of you to change the subject." He didn't answer. Her hand brushed a stray golden curl away from her eyes. "No. I didn't sleep."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Well, did you?"  
  
He shook his head. "No. No, I didn't."  
  
"If you couldn't sleep, then how could I?" She asked him. "I couldn't. I couldn't wake up in the morning and find that she was really gone and it wasn't just a bad dream."  
  
  
  
~  
Coming down, the world turned over  
And angels fall without you there  
And I go on as you get colder  
All because I'm  
~  
  
  
  
"What do we do now?" Grissom took her hand into his, but she pulled it away.  
  
"We carry on." She said. She stood up from the bed and walked to the open window. The pale curtains danced for her.  
  
He slowly made his way to stand behind her. "Is that possible?" He whispered.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"And what about...us?"  
  
"What *about* us?"  
  
"You tell me."  
  
She bit back her tears. "Was there ever an 'us' to begin with?"  
  
  
  
~  
Coming down, the years turned over  
And angels fall without you there  
And I go on and I'll lead you home and  
All because I'm  
All because I'm  
~  
  
  
  
"I'd like to think so." He answered.  
  
But he moved away within a few months. He came by every few weeks to check up on her and Lindsey. Things slowly, day by day, minute by minute, moved on, yet the pain showed up every time Grissom showed up. It killed Catherine; everyone could see that. Their old relationship, feelings, passion flared up one time, but it too died. Things from the past couldn't restore their disintegrating marriage, yet neither had the guts to do something. They couldn't live with each other, but even worse, they couldn't live without each other.  
  
"I never stopped loving you." Grissom said on one of his visits.  
  
Catherine just shook her head. "But that wasn't enough, was it?"  
  
  
  
~  
And I'll become what you became to me...  
~  
  
  
  
THE END 


End file.
